


Innocent Bones

by steepled_fingers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steepled_fingers/pseuds/steepled_fingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never really knew her. Reinterpreting Lyanna from one year to another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocent Bones

In the bustle of his days in the Vale, Domeric can easily keep thoughts of Lyanna Stark at bay, but at night in the solitude of his bedchamber it seems to have become more difficult each passing year. At a time now many years ago when he was just a ten-year-old boy his first fledgling thoughts on romantic love were of her, more poignant for having been a love that went unnoticed and unrequited.

Though Domeric may bear the Bolton name, and take after his father in his reserve and circumspection, he owes his long established, blood-borne affinity with horses to his mother and his Ryswell ancestry. Grandfather Ryswell had gifted Domeric his first mare when he was too small to climb onto her without assistance and his mother said Domeric had taken to riding before he had gained much confidence in walking or talking. He himself does not remember a time he did not love his grandfather’s horses. It didn’t feel like passion, it felt simpler than that, it felt more like living and breathing. The moment he saw Lyanna racing easily past her brother Brandon on bareback, her hair wild, her eyes bright he had felt her to be kindred, and loved her with the whole of his childish heart. She moved with her horse as if there were no need for anticipation or control, more as if they were of one mind, such was the naturalism of her horsemanship.

Her laughter had been bright and large, an unconscious imitation of her worshipped older brother, and it was readily sparked, she had an easy disposition towards merriment and Brandon had a natural disposition towards mischief. The two were as a matching set so strong was their family bond. Domeric had once yearned for this as an only child, so the simple pleasure of having these two somewhat older yet indulgent playmates was dearly cherished. He had looked forward to serving as page to Aunt Barbrey if it meant becoming intimate friends with the Stark siblings.

Even then, Lyanna's betrothal to Robert Baratheon of the Storm Lands was well known to all in the North, and Domeric's affections for her were hopeless, which allowed him to dream expansively but safely of things he knew would never come to pass. He took to sighing over the more romantic histories, and surreptitiously composing admittedly terrible songs about Lyanna’s northern beauty. He had wondered what Baratheon was like, knowing he'd had no claim to feelings of jealousy, he nevertheless had found himself begrudging the days Lyanna would have spent laughing and smiling with this no doubt dashing Southron Lord.

Now Baratheon was King, and there was a Lion of Lannister to spend smiles and laughter on instead. He could not speculate on whether Queen Cersei was one for easy affection like Lyanna had been.

~~~

When Jasper Redfort half in jest asked of him whether he had yet known a woman, Domeric had admitted that he hadn't and Jasper’s expression turning to utmost seriousness, he then took upon himself the task of finding a suitable girl so that Domeric could be properly bedded, insisting that his virginity would reign in his prowess on the battle field. Domeric enjoyed the Redforts’ easy inclusion of him in their japery and brotherhood but he found he was not ready to put aside his thoughts of Lyanna though she was now many years dead.

When he had learned of her abduction, imprisonment and death, his innocent romance became a twisting thing in his gut. Lyanna's untamed beauty came back to him frequently and he could not reconcile that wild girl with her gruesome fate, it seemed abhorrent and monstrous, it seemed like madness.

But without noticing as years passed, his thoughts of Lyanna had changed from pity and sorrowful regrets to something with more appetite than chivalry. His horror started to fade, and he began to ponder the Targaryen prince. Did he see the Lyanna that Domeric had seen? Was it her purity of freedom that he had wanted to capture and pin? Did he want to possess it and take his personal comfort in it? Who had Lyanna really been for the prince to be so possessed to abandon everything and set his eye on her? He hadn't understood when he was young, what it was that could drive a man to such destruction, but he thought he had some understanding of it now. He was ashamed to know that he often found a disturbing pleasure in thinking of her, pliant and yielding, bedded and claimed. As a man, Domeric could not keep his innocent and childish love.

~~~

On his return home from the Vale, Domeric went past his family seat at the Dreadfort to visit Winterfell. Eddard Stark was a reticent Lord, though, his two boisterous young sons always managed to soften the hardened edges earned during King Robert's Rebellion. Lady Catelyn did her best to be hospitable, and her effort to show goodwill was comforting as they shared bread and salt together. They were surprised to find that he had come to pay his respects to Brandon and Lyanna, Ned having been in the Vale himself under Jon Arryn 's charge at the time of Domeric's childhood intimacy with his siblings. Nevertheless, Lord Stark allowed him to enter the crypts, charmed despite himself by Domeric's stories of happier, more innocent times.

Someone had left a crown of fresh blue roses on the carved likeness of Lyanna. It made him uneasy, it seemed overly morbid to keep a remembrance of the moment Rhaegar Targaryen had claimed and therefore doomed Lord Stark's well-loved sister. Perhaps Domeric betrayed his distaste, or perhaps it was not said for his benefit at all, but Eddard Stark murmured behind him, "The North always remembers."

Domeric did not reply. The visit had not comforted him as he had hoped it would.

End.


End file.
